


Mind Your Own

by Vortaesthetic



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 06:29:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13094382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vortaesthetic/pseuds/Vortaesthetic
Summary: For Star Trek Secret Santa 2017. Some people need to mind their own business.





	Mind Your Own

**Mind Your Own**

 

Julian and Elim had become an item recently. It was to be expected, of course. They had a lot of things in common; a shared love of secrets and intrigue being one of them. It was simple chemistry; their two personalities had inevitably mixed in a rather explosive reaction, the long-awaited result of the slow-burn attraction that the two had kept bottled up for the last year. One day theings were as they had always been and the next, they couldn't keep their hands to themselves, stealing fleeting touches and making eyes at each other in their own admittedly unique way. Stealing kisses behind the bulkhead, necking in the shadows of the corridor, thrilled at the risk of being caught. Their lunches now had a more playful undercurrent to them than there had ever been before, appearing to be little more than mild-mannered and light banter on the surface. Only the two of them knew when the jokes listed toward lascivious, or when they dropped the most obscure and specific of innuendoes.

Their relationship was a private matter, kept between them only for now. There really wan’t any reason to publically announce it. Neither of them were as addled as Odo had been when he’d been lovesick over Nerys. In fact, it was likely to cause more trouble than it was worth to let word get out about it… a romantic liaison between a fairly open Cardassian spy and a Federation Chief Medical Officer could draw the ire of the security and intelligence departments and cause more trouble than it was worth. So their flourishing relationship remained a funtional secret, at least until war’s end. More than that, though it wasn't really anyone's business quite yet. Their relationship was still young and newly developing. Who's to say that it was going to last? Elim and Julian had many resons to hide the true nature of what was going on, but that didn’t mean that their more observant and curious friends weren’t starting to catch on to the change in the winds.

They stood in the tailor’s shop today, Julian nattering on about his day as usual while Garak busied his hands altering a pair of pants. Apparently, life in the infirmary was quite vexing today; Julian was in an uproar over something a Klingon had said to him during an exam today when he noticed a presence lingering by the central hub, nearly out of sight, peeking around it from the window of his bar every so often.

A certain Ferengi of ill repute that was taking an unusual amount of interest in them as of late.

“What is Quark doing?”

“I believe he’s trying to spy on us,” Garak smiled, knowingly. “He’s looking for something. Someone, perhaps to gossip about.”

“Why? What reason could he possibly have to do that? Don’t tell me, latinum.”

“Really, Doctor. We’re spending an unprecedented amount of time together.  _Being secretive._  We haven’t announced our relationship to anyone else. Brownnosers like Quark can’t stand that. They have to have their finger on everything. It interferes with his betting odds, I’m sure. So yes,  _latinum_.”

“Ah, good old Quark, always betting on everything,” Julian laughed as he turned back to Elim. “Not that this isany of his business anyway. You know... I have an idea.”

Garak set down his pants to level a look directly at Julian. “An idea about what? Quark? Doctor, I assure you that he's not worth the trouble.”

“If he’s snooping for details, we might as well let him work for them. Maybe we could stage a fight, make him think we hate each other.”

“Hmm, no,” Garak replied, his gaze drifting back down to his work. “You forget, Quark is very observant about things like that. He’ll figure you out in a heartbeat, assume it’s passion. He’d very correctly guess. Like I said, more trouble than it's worth.”

“Okay, so if that won’t work, what do you suggest we do? We _should_ make a statement. I don’t exactly like being stalked for the gossip mill.”

“Hmm… perhaps we should stalk him back? Both of us. Give him a taste of his own medicine; he’s a paranoid fellow, it will proably be entertaining at the very least.”

“Garak, Have I told you lately that I like how you think?”

“Why yes, yes you have. An hour ago, in fact.”

—

Over the course of a couple of days, they set the stage for this particular aesop. Garak and Julian had been visiting Quark’s frequently, sometimes together, sometimes apart. The two of the took great care to behave as conspicuously odd as possible, peppering Quark with obscure, slightly macabre nonsense. One of the more memorable visits involved Garak grilling the bartender, asking several cryptic questions about Ferengi death rituals. Asking the bartender what he thought of how much a tin of vacuum-desicated Quark would be worth. If that wasn’t unsettling enough, Garak smiled and left immediately after that, which was suspicious in and of itself. But then he began to notice both Bashir and Garak studying him more and more frequently. Appearing places they normally weren’t, at unusual hours. Sometimes alone and sometimes together, but there was definitely something that the two of them were up to.

It was creeping him out.

(And Julian and Elim were enjoying the hell out of it.)

–

Quark was being watched again tonight, he could tell. He’d felt the eyes on him right away while directing his wait staff across the floor during the happy hour crush. At first, he scanned the crows looking for Brunt; that kind of malevolent aura usually only occurred when he was around– only to find that he wasn’t there. No he was being studied by someone and they weren’t Ferengi. Which meant that it had to be his two new stalkers lurking about.

His eyes happened to flit across Julian, who was sitting at the second level bar, who kept stealing glances down at him. Soon thereafter he spotted Garak, standing shadowed by the arched entry on the first floor, also appearing to take an unusual interest in what he was doing.

It was unnerving. Julian he wasn’t necessarily scared of, but Garak was known to be a dangerous man. He felt hot under the collar, fighting to keep his cool, to control his more paranoid tendencies.

They did not stop staring. Quark discreetly eased himself out the back door into the service hallway where Garak suddenly appeared and Quark lost it, fleeing down the hallway as fast as his Ferengi feet could take him squealing like a stuck pig. When Julian stepped out of the corridor just ahead of him, it was even more dramatic, the Ferengi slipping and sliding to suddenly change direction in the hallway, trying to swing a hard right to the promenade access door.

As soon as the door closed, Bashir came up to Garak, slinging his arm over his shoulder. “Don’t you think that was a little much?”

“No, It’s an intervention. It’s supposed to be dramatic. Trust me, he won’t forget it,” he laughed, pecking Julian on the corner of the lips. “Besides, it’s all in good fun, he’ll see.”

–-

Quark dashed into Odo’s office, throwing himself against the door in a feeble attempt to try and barricade it from his supposed pursuers. Odo turned slowly in his chair to face him, only mildly entertained by Quark’s distress. He slowly drew his arms up in his customary fold as he shook his head. “What seems to be the matter, Quark?” 

 “I'm being hunted Odo, that’s what’s the matter!” 

 “Oh? Really?” 

“Yes!!! Bashir and Garak are planning to kill me and sell me!” 

 Odo fought the urge to break out laughing. “Come now, Quark…don’t you think that you’re being a bit paranoid? I doubt you're worth all of that effort.” 

 Quark fixed him with a withering glare. “Both of them were sprinting after me down the hallway the day after asking me what my dead body would be worth. Tell me, Odo! What does that sound like to you?!” 

 Odo just chuckled. “Sounds like you need to run faster. And perhaps mind your own business."  

“What? Don't tell me. You're in on this. You are, I know that look on your face.”

Odo simply smiled back as the door behind Quark slid open, revealing the pair.

"We don’t appreciate being stalked, Quark,” Bashir said as he walked in with Garak. If we want to keep something private, we should be able to. Maybe you should remember that.“ 

 Quark smiled, shaking his head. "I’ve never been good at minding my own business. I doubt I’ll start now." 

"Then you should know that I am a very creative– _and effective_ –teacher,” Garak cryptically added. 

 "You do realize that this only proves my suspicion that there’s something going on between you two, right? Now i’m positive.“ 

 "Maybe so, but perhaps you’ll think twice about talking about it. Unless you enjoy having everyone witness your panicked squealing,” Bashir said, he and Garak sauntering proudly out the door. 

 "Everyone thinks they’re a wise guy,“ Quark grumbled. 

 "They must be. They certainly made a fool out of you.”

 

 


End file.
